Fading Light
by ladygalaxyj
Summary: Nothing was the same after the war. They had seen things - done things - they could never come back from. It had changed them, all of them. Most of all, it had changed her. Tag to Normandy. Helen/James.


_The following story is set post-Normandy and spans on the following 40 years or so, until Ashley's birth. I've been working on it for a while (read: since the episode aired), but RL decided I could only finish it now. Oh well, better late than never, as they say._

_Season 4 in about 36 hours! Who can't wait?_

_Disclaimer: Sanctuary is (sadly) not mine! My words, however, are my own._  
><em><span>ParingsCharacters: Helen/James_  
><em><span>Genre:<span> Angst/Romance_  
><em><span>Rating:<span> PG_  
><em><span>Word count:<span> 1010_

_Thank to ClassicCouples for the beta! You're are the best!_

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><p><strong>Fading Light<strong>

Nothing was the same after the war.

They had seen things - done things - they could never come back from. It had changed them, all of them. Most of all, it had changed her.

James had believed they were free of their past, of his shadow. Their relationship had flourished slowly, a blossoming flower in an ocean of winter. Long gone were the days where he was forced to watch her from afar, as she slept comfortably in John's arms. In their past was the day he shattered her heart in pieces that were left for James to collect. He had been the shoulder on which she leaned in the worst moment of their lives. _"You don't know how much you hurt her,_" he had told him during the war. She was supposed to be a fighter, a strong, capable woman, but his departure had broken the solid bonds tying her together. James had seen Helen broken, devastated, devoid of any willpower.

_John._

The name hung the air, like a bad smell. They would never be free of him. For as long as they lived, he would be there, watching.

It was a few months after the war was over, when Helen announced she was moving to America. She hadn't even bothered talking to him before making her decision. James couldn't say he was surprised though. Europe meant John. It wasn't only the confines of the Sanctuary or London itself that forced the memories to the surface. Now, they'd seen him in France, and who knew where they would see him next. America was a much safer place, for her anyway, free of troublesome memories.

Helen had given him the choice to come with her, but they both knew he wouldn't. She was only asking by formality. It would seem rude if she didn't.

They didn't even kissed goodbye on the day she left. Somehow, it hadn't seemed appropriate. She would be gone now. New adventures awaited her. He didn't want to hold her back.

It was a few years before they saw each other again.

Of course, they'd written one another many times during those years, but when he announced he would be visiting in the summer of 1952, they hadn't been ready for it. The moment he laid eyes on her, their lips were touching. Every fiber in his being told him it was inappropriate, but James didn't have it in himself to stop her. So, it continued on, every five years or so. He would go to Old City or she would visit him in London and they'd find each other again. For the sake of old times. At least, those were the lies they told themselves. They both knew it was only comfort, drawing solace from each other when the world seemed too small to breathe.

#####

Only their relationship came to an abrupt end in the 1980's.

She came to London for a weekend, like she always did. When he leaned in to kiss her as she stepped across the threshold, he didn't feel her respond as strongly as she usually did. James pulled away and looked at her quizzically. The glimmer Helen had always had in her eyes was masked by veil of silent sorry. "We need to talk," were the only words to make it through her mouth, her voice almost cracking by the end.

He took her bag as they walked in silence to his office.

She didn't wait until they were sitting comfortably to drop the bomb. Helen hadn't come to London to see him. She wanted something he still possessed, something hidden in the darker corner of this Sanctuary's basement.

The embryo.

_The embryo._

Watson had hoped never to have that discussion with her. He had dared to believe she had forgotten all about that child from another time. He reluctantly showed her to the room where it was preserved. When she asked him to perform the implantation process, he complied without saying anything, even if his heart ached at the prospect of losing her. Her pregnancy would end everything between them. He knew it. And she did too. Which was why she didn't say anything during the procedure.

He went back to his office when he was done, letting her rest.

She came to see him a few hours later, the scans showing no complications for the embryo. She was officially pregnant.

_Pregnant._

She asked him to be the father, saying they could raise the baby together, in a world of love and peace, free of _his_ influence. The little one coming to the world didn't need to know about him. James declined. It was John's child. It would always be. He couldn't do that to him. He respected the man far too much, or once did anyway. And he knew this child was the product of a love bigger than his, bigger than anything there ever was between Helen and himself. They had had their moments and he knew she loved him, but John was something else entirely, something they'd never be free of, and this new child she was about to bring to the world would be a constant, walking, memory of what they had lost, what he had lost.

So, he sent her on her way, back to America. He barely saw her during the pregnancy. A few times here and there to make sure she was okay, but she had friends in Old City who could take care of her.

He flew to her Sanctuary for the big day.

He had never seen Helen this happy in a long time. Her smile was radiant, her eyes were warm, and she looked ready to take on the world.

#####

She was exhausted after giving birth and he held the small girl in his arms, watching her sleep. He felt a movement in his arms. She was waking up. He looked down and, when his eyes met the shiny blues of the innocent child in his arms, he knew they could both find a way home.

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><p><em>Reviews are my source of inspiration. It takes two minutes and they are really appreciated. :)<em>


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